online: 17 march 2011 modified: 22 february, 17 march 2011 21 february 2011 misty and cold
city forest
...wintry afternoon... (though crocuses and daffodils are in bloom and the days are beginning to lengthen)... a sycamore seed rotates as it descends to the ground at my feet... and each tree seems alone in its seasonal deadness...
...invisible aircraft fly above the low cloud and a distant horizon is hidden by ground mist...
...all day i have listened to news of revolution in Libya... and now i'm wondering at the sudden ending of imposed peace... and at the emergence of civil war that i suppose was prevented by recent decades of repressive government... its effect on these notes is to provoke dullness... and political sadness...
...attempting to rise above all this i straighten up... and catch sight of a cluster of pink rhododendron blossoms in the nearby park... where two people only just able to walk are supporting each other... while a squirrel (who knows nothing of the news) runs swiftly and lightly in a thicket of branches...
...the day proceeds as earth moon and sun maintain stability in motion... and a finger protruding through a hole in a glove writes these words in damp air which is not far from freezing...
...and these events, both gigantic and tiny... (together with the vastness and frequent unwelcomeness of political news)... all this has nevertheless an almost unimaginable unity...
...another aircraft flies by above cloud... while a bird sings in a tree... the street lights switch on automatically... and life as we know it continues...
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